


The Sleeping Beauty

by morningfcwn



Category: EXO (Band), GOT7
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 06:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13496846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningfcwn/pseuds/morningfcwn
Summary: Some people feel appalled by snoring, drooling, dreaming friends, but Jackson finds sleeping Lu Han absolutely irresistible.





	The Sleeping Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Another self-indulgent piece of shameless PWP. The original version is far more hardcore, but I decided to tone it down and fluff it up to make it more like drowsy morning sex. I love writing drowsy morning sex. Enjoy!

The motel room was poorly lit, illuminated by only a single ray of morning sun filtering through a gap in the curtains; however, Jackson's eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness enough that he could study Han's features with ease. The boy was a deep sleeper for sure. Jackson had been staring at his peaceful, boyish face for a good while now, yet he had not shown any signs of awakening.   
  
Two friends on a road trip had had no reason to ask for a double bed, so as a result they had pushed their bunks together upon arrival. Only a pair of wooden planks separated Jackson's mattress from Han's, dividing their sleeping place in two equal halves. But Jackson could tell he had been hogging Han's blanket, and possibly rolling onto his side of the bed and kicking him in his sleep again. Or hugging him, even. Perhaps his hands had slipped under Han's loose t-shirt as he had dreamed, and...  
  
Han shifted in his sleep, scrunching his nose as he let out a soft sigh. Jackson grinned at the sight. Seeing someone who was so pedantic and superficial in such a defenseless state was both amusing, and sweet. One half of his face was buried in the pillow, and his bleached hair was a disheveled mess. Jackson reached out a tentative hand and touched the unruly strands, careful not to get his fingers tangled in the mess.  
  
Being the blanket-hoarder that he was, Jackson had left Han mostly without cover, only one corner hiding the other’s toes. With his upper body bare, he could see that Han’s t-shirt rode high and exposed a naked patch of smooth skin, and the waistband of his sweatpants hung loose. His skin looked warm, and inviting. Jackson's fingertips were prickling.  
  
He moved a little closer and pressed his nose curiously against Han's shoulder. He was not worried about waking him up, since Han would flick his forehead in the worst case scenario, and embrace his morning cuddles in the best; but nevertheless his heart rate was picking up. Han smelled lovely, like cotton, and shampoo, and sweet dreams, and his whole body was radiating a drowsy warmth. Jackson inhaled again, unsatisfied.   
  
He wanted to touch him. There were so many reasons for him to; like how Han's smile lit up the room, and how his laughter was the most beautiful sound Jackson had ever heard. How he always seemed to have something clever to say, and how he would always be fiddling with something, whether was Jackson's fingers, or his hair, or the sleeve of his jacket. But there were more than that. Filthier reasons, inappropriate details, and tiny gestures that drove him out of his mind, invading his waking thoughts as well as his dreams. And now, with Han in this sweet and clueless state, Jackson could finally let those ideas roam free.  
  
He had always been called a loud mouth, a troublemaker, and a goof — all which came with their own perks. If Han was to suddenly wake up and find him staring, sniffing, or touching, he wouldn’t think anything of it. Jackson could brush it off with a laugh and a shrug, and they could go on with their daily lives as usual — until the next sleepover, at least.  
  
Sitting up slowly and inhaling through his nose, Jackson’s eyes were glued onto Han's sleeping form, searching for any sign of him awakening. But the boy continued to dream. So, ever so carefully, Jackson slid a hand up Han's warm side, pushing his fingertips under the hem of his shirt and mapping out the skin with the palm of his hand. The higher he climbed, the faster his heart continued to beat, and for a moment he feared that the mere sound of it would carry through into Han's dreams. But nothing happened, not even as he touched his ribs, and then his shoulder blades; stroking the skin in slow, steadily growing circles.  
  
It was only once his thumb brushed over a small, t-shirt-covered nipple that Han suddenly mumbled in his sleep. Jackson froze, but didn't withdraw his hand (the sudden movement would only draw attention and raise suspicion if Han were to notice). The boy rolled over, turning to lay on his stomach instead and trapping Jackson’s hand underneath him, his own face burying deep into the pillow.   
Sighing, Jackson finally relaxed once more, quite happy with his hand pinned between Han's chest and the mattress. Like this, he could feel Han’s slow heartbeat.  
  
However, his eyes began to wander downwards and soon his attention has darted somewhere else completely. Jackson studied the scrunched fabric of Han's t-shirt, and the exposed skin of his lower back; then his gaze reached the waistband of his pants, and the grey fabric that concealed his ass. His ass...! Jackson swallowed. By then, his heart was racing wildly and his imagination was running out of control. Han had a great ass. It was tiny and quite flat—nothing like the mad bubble butts he had seen in those foreign porn clips—but it was firm and pale and it fit his hand perfectly. He had tried, once, and it earned him a smack on the arm. That ass was always taunting him, jiggling just out of reach, and he would have loved to smack it just like Han had smacked his bicep that day.   
  
Perhaps a peek wouldn't hurt. Han would never know, and whatever happened between his ass and Jackson could stay between the two. Well, probably. In Jackson's desperate mind it worked out perfectly, and sounded pretty reasonable.   
  
Pulling his trapped hand back in one gradual motion, his eyes are still glued on Han's buttocks. His breathing had grown a little louder, but he had hardy noticed, focusing on curling his fingers around that loose waistband and rolling it down as slowly as he could. Inch by inch, more pale flesh was revealed, and Jackson's heart was about to jump out of his throat. Meanwhile his cock had grown quite interested in all the shenanigans as well, and was slowly raising its head and hardening in his shorts. It would have to be ignored, for now. He could find relief, and enjoy the mental image of that glorious behind in the confinements of the motel bathroom later.   
  
Han was breathing as calmly as ever, even though his sweatpants had been rolled down halfway to his thighs, and his best friend was devouring his ass with his eyes. The expression on his face—as far as Jackson could see—was calm and content. Satisfied, even. Almost like he could sense that he was being admired (Han had always been a figurative slut for attention).   
  
And Jackson was a slut for him. All of his previous intentions of "just look, don't touch" were discarded quickly, and he placed a hand over an exposed butt cheek, giving it a squeeze. The flesh was so warm, and clutching it like this felt so good...! He loved the way his fingertips sunk in, and how his slow massaging motion pulled at the skin. His erection was rock hard by then, possibly leaking and forming a wet spot in his underwear, but there was nothing he could do about that.   
  
The next thing he knew, his grip had turned rough, and he was prying Han's cheeks apart to catch a glimpse of his asshole. It was pink, cute, and inviting; absolutely edible to nobody's surprise. For whom did Han keep it so nice and ready for? Jackson had no idea, but a jolt of jealousy made him certain that from now on it would be for him, and him alone. One day, some day soon, he would fuck that hole and make Han his own.   
  
Han whimpered in his sleep, clearly disturbed by the groping fingers, and Jackson halted once more. A rushing, selfish arousal, and sudden jealousy prevented him from feeling any guilt, but he was not ready to get caught just yet. He needed to gather his composure and keep his cool to prevent any kind of abrupt ending. With a few deep breaths, he waited for Han to settle down again, trying to decide what to do in the meantime.   
  
His erection was throbbing angrily. The need for stimulation and relief was growing each second, and Han's exposed ass did nothing to help. Jackson withdrew his hand, contemplated his options, and then regretted everything. For giving in to his curiosity, greed, and his passionate lust; and also for letting go of Han's buttock. He swallowed and grabbed his own erection through the thin fabric of his sweatpants instead, sighing in relief.   
  
Sitting up, Jackson knelt on the mattress and lowered his pajama pants to let his cock spring free. His fist was good, but he knew Han's ass would have been better, if only he could have had a taste. Breathing harder and jerking himself off faster, Jackson lowered his other hand back onto Han's ass cheek and gave it another demanding grope. His cock in his fist twitched in approval, and Jackson moaned. His orgasm was approaching rapidly, but when he felt himself nearing his peak, he squeezed the very base of his length and stopped himself from spilling over. It was frustrating enough that it left him huffing, but this was not how he wanted it. Leaving his erection jutting out, he crawled back between Han's legs, pulled his cheeks apart once more, and leaned down to give his ass a tentative lick. Like this, with his face buried where he wanted it the most, and his tongue pleasuring the clueless boy, Jackson could finally let himself finish. Or he would have, if Han had not chosen that moment to speak up.  
  
"Jackson?"   
  
If his dick hadn't already been attached to his body, Jackson would have dropped it from sheer shock. Han sounded half asleep, voice hoarse and confused, and Jackson was unsure if he was actually upset with him or not. But even so, with his cheeks flushed red, he still couldn't bring himself to pull his hands back and repent.   
  
"Listen, I can explain..." he tried, even though there was no explanation.   
  
"Am I still dreaming?"  
  
Was it an opportunity or a test?  
  
"Yes?" Jackson tried.  
  
"Good," Han murmured, and Jackson could hear the smile in his voice. "Then keep going."  
  
Jackson didn’t have to be told twice, and now that he had permission, nothing could stop him for forcing Han's ass open with his tongue, fucking him with the wet muscle until he was as deep as he could go. In and out, each flick seemed to spur Han on. His moans were still drowsy, like those of someone who was still asleep, but Jackson could tell he was very much awake. The way he kept pushing his hips back clearly gave him away. It felt like he was begging for something bigger, and longer; something that could fill him up properly, and Jackson was more than happy to provide. A finger pushed to join his tongue, twisting and curling in order to loosen the natural resistance. Han whimpered into his pillow and spread his half naked thighs further apart, offering himself to Jackson.   
  
At that point Jackson felt like he was going out of his mind. His poor cock had been neglected and tortured for far too long. A few swift strokes eased the tension, but did nothing to satisfy him or kill his desperate desire.  
  
"Fuck. We're gonna fuck," he said and propped himself back up so he could slide his cock along the crack of Han's ass. The heat was incredible. He could see the tiny hole quiver as he pushed the head of his erection over it, missing on purpose, teasing.   
  
"Do you want it?" Jackson asked, gathering the last remnants of his self control. "Do you want my dick, Han?"  
  
He could see Han glancing over his shoulder and giving him a drowsy, yet flushed look. His eyes were dark and heavily lidded, mouth parted open. An image of pornographic perfection, except that it was so much better because it was genuine, and it was Han. He gave a nod, then buried his face back in the pillow. A clear "yes."  
  
Jackson took in a deep breath and brushed the leaking head of his cock against Han's entrance once more, this time pushing forward. It was incredibly hot, extremely tight, and for a moment he worried that he might break the boy. But Han seemed eager, hungry, and Jackson was quick to realize that he had lost and last shreds of his self composure; ready now to do whatever it took to be inside the boy. Whenever Han would clench, or whine, Jackson would use his thumb to finger him open further. It took only moments for him to nudge his ass open with the tip of his cock, and he felt ready to swallow him in.  
  
"Fuck, Han," he groaned, feeling like he was supposed to give a small speech, or at least utter a few praises. But it seemed like Han was not having any of that, wiggling his hips ever so lightly, it was almost like he was trying to invite him in. That was all it took for Jackson to thrust up and finally, finally, fill him up completely.   
  
It felt fantastic. Han was still quite passive, drowsy, and seemingly confused, but it didn't stop his ass from swallowing him up and clenching tightly around him. Even though he muffled his moans into his pillow and kept his hands in the sheets, Jackson could feel how much he wanted it, too. He started with slow thrusts, letting most of his length slip out before he slammed himself back in, full force; and it seemed to frustrate Han. At that point he was keening and tugging at the sheets, and the sight of Han begging for his cock (even if it was not verbal), was worth all the trouble. He was positive he would remember it for the rest of his life.   
  
"Are you still sleeping...?" Jackson grunted, with another harsh thrust.  
  
"Mm, probably," was Han's lazy response, but it seemed like he was flashing a secret smile.  
  
"Does it feel good? Is it dreamy?" Jackson had no idea what made him crave the reassurance, and why he did not feel like cringing over the cheesy lines—but it could have had something to do with the perfect ass massaging his cock just right, leaving him feeling lightheaded and too distracted to think straight.   
  
"So dreamy," Han purred in that soft, sleepy voice of his. "I want more."  
  
And Jackson was willing to give him exactly that. His thrusts turned harder, his grip on Han's hips, firmer, and the filthy sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room like music. His whole body felt tense, balancing on the edge, and ready to find relief; yet Han seemed pliant, soft, hungry, and still eager to be filled. He starts moving faster, feeling his fingertips sink into the skin of Han's hips as he’s chasing after his own climax. It was then that Han opened his mouth.  
  
"Jackson, I want to cum."  
  
Just hearing his own name made Jackson's heart do a double back flip.   
  
"Yeah? How much?"  
  
He wanted to see Han crumble, to witness him throwing away his precious inhibitons and open up to him completely, in both body and soul.   
"So much...! Touch me! Please," Han whimpered, and Jackson complied.  
  
He had obsessed about Han's ass for quite a while, but he had never dreamed of playing with his cock. Yet now that he could, how could he claim to not already be addicted? This was the final step in tearing Han apart, to be able to pull and stroke the most beautiful sounds out of him. Han had turned into a writhing, whimpering mess; Jackson's very own slut—his lover.  
  
"Cum for me," Jackson groaned. "Do it for me, baby, and I will fill you up."  
  
And Han provided, just like that. Perhaps he was still half asleep, perhaps he was just as horny as Jackson was, but he spilled generously. His seed coated Jackson's fingers, and the sensation of it was what finally pulled Jackson himself over the edge.   
  
His orgasm was blinding. Continuing to move with heavy breaths, he rode out the waves with deep thrusts until he was completely spent, eventually softening inside Han's ass. It sounded like Han had enjoyed the treatment, too, as Jackson could still hear him groaning into his pillow. Although it was hard to tell if he enjoyed the feeling of being filled with spunk, or if he hated it.  
  
Jackson pulled out with a quiet moan, and took a sweet moment to admire the white trickle of cum leaking out of Han's ass. The very ass that had taunted him so was now fucked, and flushed, and so very full of him. Perhaps one day he could immortalize it with a photograph.   
  
"You okay?" Jackson asked with a naughty smile, reaching to play with a droplet of cum that had tainted Han's buttocks.   
  
"I'm perfect," Han murmured. "Sore, though."  
  
Jackson grinned to himself and leaned over, kissing his ear and the exposed cheek that was not buried into the pillow.   
  
"You'll feel fine when you wake up," he promised cheekily. "It's just a dream, after all."  
  
It seemed like Han tried to kick him, but he could not be sure. His amazing orgasm had taken its toll on him, and his limbs felt like they weighed a ton. With his nose buried in Han's hair and his flaccid cock pressed against his buttock, he drifted into a peaceful sleep, dreaming sweetly and soundly until noon


End file.
